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There is just one maid-of-all-work now; we engaged her not long after Edwin disappeared, and Charlotte keeps house and cooks. Our means are limited but we do not starve. There are effects that in a household so straitened as ours we might have thought to sell, but of course until Edwin is declared dead and the will overturned they are not mine to dispose of. If I was to sell so much as a teaspoon I am sure Lionel would notice and fly into a perfect rage.’
    Mrs Antrobus poured more tea into the wooden cups and Frances took advantage of the pause to compose her next question.
    ‘I feel I must apologise in advance for what I am about to say. In my profession I often see the very worst kinds of behaviour and therefore have a suspicious mind and am obliged to ask about matters which might cause offence.’
    ‘Oh, please do ask,’ implored Mrs Antrobus. ‘I am so much wrapped in cotton wool I would welcome a little offence.’
    ‘Do you think it at all possible that your husband is still alive and has started a new life elsewhere?’
    The lady was not shocked or even upset; she merely nodded. ‘I know what you are thinking, and others have hinted the same. I admit that Edwin has found me a great disappointment and a trouble to him. But he would never have deserted me, and he is so proud of our two boys. Even if he tired of my company I cannot imagine that he would not have continued to exert all his energy to secure a good future for our sons. I have written to them and they assure me that he has not communicated with them, and they are truthful and honest.’
    As to the truthfulness or honesty of the sons Frances thought that the time might come when she would have to judge for herself, and was Edwin Antrobus really such a paragon of a husband, with no other fault than being a little dull? When Frances thought about it, dullness, represented as such a minor imperfection, was perhaps the last quality she might look for in a husband, even supposing she was looking for one, which she was not.
    ‘Mr Wylie has been a very good friend to you,’ she commented.
    ‘He is kindness itself,’ said her hostess, warmly. ‘I really do not know how I could have remained here without his assistance. You know that my brother-in-law has done everything in his power to make me vacate the house and I am sure that if it was not for Mr Wylie he would have prevailed.’
    ‘Is Mr Wylie a single gentleman?’ asked Frances.
    ‘He is, yes.’ In the dim light it was hard to see if there was a hint of a blush, but a movement of the eyelids indicated that Mr Wylie’s marital status was of some moment to the lady.
    ‘I must once again be forward in my questioning. Has Mr Wylie made any kind of declaration to you, either formal or otherwise?’
    Mrs Antrobus smiled. ‘How wonderful to be engaged in a profession that permits you to be so inquisitive and find out so many secrets. How much more entertaining than mere parlour gossip. Of course in my current position it would be most improper for Mr Wylie to address me as anything other than a concerned friend, and I can assure you that he has not done so. What may transpire in the future,’ she gave a demure look, ‘I really could not say.’
    ‘I assume that any papers your husband kept here have already been examined for information which might help find out where he might be.’
    ‘They have, but you may examine them too. I have nothing to hide, and I do not believe he did either.’
    When Frances departed an hour later she still felt she knew very little about the missing man. His effects had been kept in good order as if he was expected home from the office at any moment. A desk, which although it had lockable compartments was unlocked, contained accounts from his tailor and shirt maker, all paid, and the usual family papers. There was no evidence of membership of clubs or guilds and nothing at all to suggest a secret second life.

    Frances returned home to find that two notes had been